


If I Die Young

by xLostDreamsx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, No Actual Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 11:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2465828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xLostDreamsx/pseuds/xLostDreamsx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was it. </p><p>It had all been play before but this was really the end. </p><p>He was never going to see his dad again, he would be identified in the morgue and it would tear his old man apart. </p><p>He was never going to graduate, was never going to travel to Europe like he’d always wanted.</p><p>He was never going to hold Derek close and voice all that he knew they both felt between them in all their shared glances and brushes of contact they had somehow never got around to defining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Die Young

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration for this came from listening to 'If I Die Young' by The Band Perry.
> 
> _If I die young, bury me in satin_  
>  _Lay me down on a bed of roses_  
>  _Sink me in a river at dawn_  
>  _Send me away with the words of a love song_  
> 

Stiles rubbed frantically at the blood stained skin on his arms, sobs wracking out of him in croaky desperate exhalations. The tears fell hot staining the denim of his jeans dark as he sat kneeling on his floor of his childhood bedroom. He gritted his teeth and pressed his eyes tightly closed as he brought his fists up to painfully dig in trying to hold back the scream that was threatening to pierce through his body.

He swayed as he sat trying to stop the flood of images that raced through his mind. They’d nearly all died tonight and it was all his fault.

His stupid hair-brained scheme to just go and wonder around in the dark forest when he knew there was some unknown creature out there that had been slaughtering humans and animals indiscernibly for the past week. He’d been so determined that he just needed some kind of evidence, a sample or a photo that he’d been blinded to the dangers, had become complacent.

Whilst the group were arguing about whether Stiles was right or not and what their plan should be, he’d slipped out anyway, so sure that he knew what he was doing. In the back of his mind he also knew that Scott and Derek would never let him come to harm and wouldn’t be too far away if needed.

He screwed his eyes up as the tears began to itch at his skin and knelt low to the floor groaning in anger at himself and pain for what he had seen that night. The blood he was covered in wasn’t his own and how could he live with himself when he had caused that?

 

He’d stepped out along the crunching forest path, flashlight swinging low to the ground, camera ready and baseball bat swinging where he’d tied it to his belt. The thing, whatever the hell it was, swept like some demon fresh from hell, all he saw was a glimpse of flashing white teeth and the over-whelming stench of death and decay swept over him making him gag and want to pass out there and then. He screamed and grabbed at his bat managing to take a swing before seeing the wood disintegrate as it made contact with the hideous black creature arching over him.

He froze with terror and at that second as he saw the extended claws gleaming in the moonlight above his head, he had a moment of pure clarity.

This was it.

It had all been play before but this was really the end.

He was never going to see his dad again, he would be identified in the morgue and it would tear his old man apart.

He was never going to graduate, was never going to travel to Europe like he’d always wanted.

He was never going to hold Derek close and voice all that he knew they both felt between them in all their shared glances and brushes of contact they had somehow never got around to defining.

His eyes widened in horror as he realised the ultimate ending to this night and ironically enough, as his knees buckled beneath him, this motion saved his life.

The creature leapt forward and as Stiles dropped to the ground, the might and power of Derek flew over his head and latched onto the creature throwing him back and away as they tumbled into the darkness of the forest. Scott came charging behind closely, teeth bared and claws extended. He saw a shadow of Allison to his left, arrow pulled tight as she stalked in to provide discreet and deadly power.

Stiles kneeled, shaking as the shock rolled over him, hands trembling as he looked down at his bat that lay in shards at him feet. He could feel his breath coming in tight and his eyes began to blur. A scuffle behind him made him jump hard before he felt soft arms and the warm familiar scent of Lydia pull him close. He gulped in air and allowed her to stroke at his arms and face as he struggled to stay conscious.

The hideous sounds of wet snapping, snarling and tearing were echoing all around but Stiles couldn’t tell what was happening. He heard the tight sound of Allison releasing a bow and huddled close to Lydia trying to decipher what was going on.

A crash suddenly split the air in front of them as a ball of limbs and snapping teeth rolled out into the clearing, Lydia inhaled sharply as Stiles whined as fear began to over-take him.

As the creatures rolled apart, he couldn’t tell whose blood was whose but he could see Scott had a large gash to his right arm and his face was smeared horribly with blood. Derek was limping badly and snarling with a harshness Stiles hadn’t heard from him before and he realised he must be in severe pain right now.

The creature seemed to loom over them both before locking eyes on the huddled figures of Stiles and Lydia. It made a leap forward and landed a few feet away before Scott and Derek lunged after it. Scott was immediately thrown to the left with a sickening crunch and Derek was grabbed and brought forward, impaled on a huge clawed hand.

Stiles could see the claws start to slice through Derek, the blood seeping out strong and thick as he howled in pain. As Derek’s pained gurgles echoed through the trees, Stiles felt a burst of adrenaline hit.

No.

This was not what was going to happen. He was not going to let his friends die for his stupidity.

He let out a desperate scream before launching himself forward out of Lydia’s grip as she shrieked and tried to hold him back.

He ran for the creature with no defences other than his fists but he could just not watch this, could not see Derek being gutted in front of his own eyes. With a sound of indignation that shocked even his own ears, he barrelled into the tremendous leg of the creature, pounding and beating at the armoured flesh and biting where he could.

The creature paused and took Stiles in, dropping Derek to the ground with a sickening thud as he did so. Lydia screamed at him again in the background but Stiles kept fighting, he’d lost all rational thought and just knew he hated this thing. He hated their lives, hated that he had to see the people he cared most about in the whole world being hurt and never knowing who would come back from each fight unscathed. When would be the last time they would see each other.

His eyes burned with tears of frustration and he waited for the final swipe that would cut his strings.

His world tilted as he was plucked into the air before he heard the unmistakable vicious roar from Scott as he leapt up out of the trees and attached himself to the creature’s neck, sinking his teeth in deep and tearing at the soft flesh.

He heard the quiet swish of the air being cut as Allison appeared in his eye line firing arrow after arrow into the creature’s back. Stiles thudded to the ground as the creature turned its attention to trying to get rid of its attackers. After what felt like an eternity, it finally seemed to stagger backwards, snarling with a kind of desperation as its life began to ebb away. Scott was still ripping at its flesh and the amount of blood made Stiles swallow hard to try and keep the acid in his stomach from rising.

With a final anti-climatic snap of teeth, the creature slowly fell back as its life ended and the only sound was of the werewolves and humans breathing heavily in the frosty air.

Stiles clenched and un-clenched his fists on repeat, staring ahead and shaking. Scott was moving over to find Allison, he was limping heavily now and Stiles could see a gash on his head from when he’d been thrown. He looked to his right and could see Derek’s dark body still lying where he’d been dropped after being sliced up.

Stiles started to whimper and shuffled over the crunching leaves with tears starting to cloud his vision.

‘Derek, Derek, _oh god’_ he cried softly.

He reached the crumpled figure and knelt in to find Derek’s face and to try and assess the damage. He ran his fingertips lightly down Derek’s black jacket, scared to move him but also unable to tell whether he was healing, hidden away as he was in the dark shadows. He braced himself with a sharp intake of breath and as his heart thudded loudly in his chest and tried to rock Derek onto his back so he could see him more clearly.

Derek rolled back with sickening lifelessness. Stiles reached out his long pale fingers and stroked them over his face, tracing sharp cheekbones and heavily shadowed eyes. He moaned Derek’s name softly, taking a breath for courage before moving his jacket open. He rocked back in horror to see the five gaping lines slick heavy with dark blood running down Derek’s torso.

Stiles pitched forward before wrenching off his own hoody which he gathered tightly in his hands and then pressed down firmly onto Derek’s wounds. There was no sign of life in the man below him, no breath and no reaction.

Stiles buried his head in his hoody and whispered fervently, ‘please, please don’t die Derek... please come back, we need you, _I_ need you...’

Tears ran heavily onto his hands and soaked into the fabric of his hoody, he could smell the thick coppery tang of all the blood still seeping out under his hands, ‘no, no, no... c’mon...’

He felt hands on his back trying to pull him away but he resisted tightly, he refused to stand, to leave when this was all his fault. The hands gripped harder and Stiles began to fight,

‘ _No!_ He needs me, get off! Leave me alone’

He felt Scott grip him hard around his waist, pinning his arms in and dragging him forcefully away.

‘It’s ok Stiles, we’ll get him to Deaton ok? He just needs a little more help with healing wounds that bad. He’ll be alright though man, calm down.’

Stiles could feel his strength seep away and he was no match for Scott’s muscle. Lydia appeared at his side and stroked his hair as Allison stepped in to look down at Derek’s lifeless body. She looked over at Scott with dark eyes wordlessly conveying that they needed to get him out of there.

Scott whispered to his ear, ‘I’m going to let you go now ok, just stay with Lydia and I’ll come see you later ok? Everything’s going to be ok.’ 

Stiles blinked heavily as he felt the support leave him and his knees crumpled beneath him. Lydia immediately sank down next to him rubbing his back as Scott looked on with concern.

‘Go Scott, take care of Derek, I’ll get Stiles back’ Lydia instructed.

He nodded before turning to Derek and crouching down and struggling to gather his inert body in his arms. He turned and ran into the night and Stiles held his breath watching them go.

His eyes were glazed with tears that threatened to spill. He felt a sudden calmness wash over his body, he felt so cold and a frozen ice seemed to have coated his heart.

He pulled his way out of Lydia’s arms and stood on weak legs, still staring into the shadows where Scott had run off. Allison walked over and tried to reach out, ‘Stiles...’

Stiles flinched and with pursed lips turned away and began to walk blindly back in the direction he’d parked his Jeep. He breathed in harsh cold breaths, nerves stretched to brittle breaking point and he knew that kind words now would see him break down and he didn’t know if he’d have the strength to pull himself back together again if he let that happen.

He shrugged the girls off, insistent that he was fine to drive and screeched away before they could take his keys off him. His hands gripped the wheel, finger nails digging into the rigid leather. His mind was spinning a mile a minute and his eyes could barely focus on the flashing landscape. He let out a shuddering breath aware that he should not be behind the wheel now but he just needed to get away, needed the space.

He pulled up at the house and saw the dark windows, his dad was working a late tonight which relived him, he didn’t want his dad to see him like this. He struggled to get the key into the lock and had to stop after the third attempt to shake out his hand to get it to work properly.

Slamming the door shut behind him, he fumbled his shoes off before running up the stairs, heavily pulling himself up along the rail. The safety of his room once he closed the door was like a balm on his frayed nerves. The smell and the sight of the familiar allowed his lungs to fill again. He slowly lowered to the ground and stared down at his bloodied hands before he allowed the memories to come flooding back. He felt the cracks start to splinter through him as the grief at the thought of losing his friends and that it had all been his fault hit him and he let down his guard.

He sat shaking and sobbing, clutching at his clothes for an undetermined amount of time. He screamed at the walls at the unfairness of their lives, at the pain they all seemed to have to go through so frequently. He played the images of Scott and Derek being hurt so casually and cursed himself for the blame he felt rest on his shoulders.

He thought of how close he had come to losing his own life, how easy it would’ve been for those claws to have sliced through his own flesh and how his body was not equipped to heal from that.

As the rage and sadness started to mould into a small ball he could feel forming in his stomach, his breathing quieted and he sat staring at his hands in his bloodied lap. His thoughts became clearer and decisive.

He stood slowly, wiping the snot and tears from his face. He shucked out his clothes, threw his jeans in the trash as they were too soaked to be recoverable. The rest he dumped in the wash bin in the bathroom. He turned the shower on as hot as he could take it before standing under the scorching spray and scrubbing himself clean. 

The water ran red and brown and Stiles bit his lip to stop the whines as the heat pierced at his skin. When he was glowing pink and the water started to cool, he got out and methodically dried himself down before throwing on an old t-shirt and boxers and quietly making his way to his room. 

With a sniff, he glanced around his room, eyes feeling heavy. He saw his notepad and grabbed a pen before sitting in the centre of his bed and taking a moment to think before starting to scratch with decisive strokes at the paper and once he started, the words began to flow. His thoughts stilled and he filled two sheets of paper before exhaustion began to cloud his mind and he laid the paper down again.

He grabbed his phone and saw Scott had texted him to say they had to Deaton’s and not worry, everything was fine. Stiles shook his head in disbelief at Scott’s over-whelming positivity.

He stared blankly at his darkened window, chest feeling hollow and numb before turning on his side and curling up on the cool sheet of his bed. Sleep hit with an unexpected speed.

 

Derek awoke with a shuddering awareness of his surroundings. He could smell the faint odours of medicines and potions and knew it was the vets before his eyes opened.

With a groan he sat up and looked around, Deaton was gazing at him placidly from the corner as he cleaned his instruments and Scott stood from the seat he’d been curled up in.

‘Hey man, you feeling ok? You got cut up pretty bad there.’

The memory of the creature they’d faced that night flooded his mind and with a wince he peered down at his chest remembering vividly the horrific pain of those razor sharp claws cutting through his organs and muscle like he was nothing more than tissue paper. The wounds still stood out as dark pink stripes but they were fast healing and he could feel the fibres underneath slowly stitching back together.

He took a deep breath before shifting to Scott with alarm, ‘Stiles..?’

Scott gave a tight lipped smile, ‘yeah, he ran in to try and save the day, idiot that he is.’

Derek could vaguely remember hearing screams of such raw anger from Stiles as he was losing consciousness, he’d never heard such a depth of pain emanate from Stiles and it took away his breath thinking of it now.

He pulled himself off the table to loom over Scott, ‘ _And?_ Is he ok?’

Scott met his gaze calmly, ‘yeah, he’s ok. He was pretty shaken up by the whole think but physically he’s fine. He wouldn’t talk to the girls but they followed him home and made sure he got back alright.’

Scott turned away with a yawn, ‘I’m just gonna drop by him now actually, make sure he’s doing ok.’

Derek reached out to grab him, ‘No, I’ll go.’

Scott shrugged out of his grip, ‘hey woah there, you should be resting still, your healings not finished yet.’

Derek turned away wordlessly, feeling irrationally angry that Scott had stayed with him when they knew he would be fine. Why was no one with Stiles?

He grabbed his jacket and threw it on over his bare chest. As he stalked over to the door, he held his hand out to touch Deaton’s arm in thanks, Scott left behind him still trying to protest.

‘Just go home Scott’ he spat out angrily as he left the vets, slamming the door behind him.

He ran to Stiles ignoring the tenderness he could still feel in his torso and before he even reached the house he could smell and over-whelming riot of thick cloying emotion coiling from Stiles’ room. He gasped at the depth of the pain and anguish he could feel and wasted no time leaping up to his window and peering in, desperate to see his face in front of him.

He gazed in and saw Stiles’ small thin figure curled up tightly, bathed in the soft light from his bedside lamp. Derek slid a claw under the window and gently pulled it up trying to be silent. He eased himself in and stood for a moment trying to scent any blood that would indicate Stiles had been hurt in any way. Feeling reassured that he couldn’t, he edged closer to his sleeping figure and tried to peer down.

Stiles’ face was soft with sleep, his skin pale and smooth and his eyelashes fanning a dark shadow across his cheeks. Derek reached out a hand before hovering it over Stiles’ face, unsure of what to do. He withdrew his hand and instead slowly eased himself to sit next to him. He smelt clean and his skin almost gleamed translucent in the light, pale hairs glinting gold as his body rose and fell with each soft breath.

Derek started to breathe easier that maybe he was ok, he could believe Scott now and let him rest, he was probably just exhausted and riding out the adrenaline crash. He glanced around the room wondering if he should just go before seeing a notebook that he was sitting on and crushing slightly.

He frowned, recognising the cursive scrawled over it and he pulled at it, just meaning to place it on Stiles’ bedside table but as he did, he was unable to avoid seeing the title scratched out in solid letters and under-lined at the top of the page.

_**If I Die** _

Derek felt his heart stop before kicking in at double speed and a cold sweat broke out over his forehead. His rough hand started to distort the paper as he gripped it and he forced himself to relax to stop tearing it. He closed his eyes and made himself breathe in and out a few times slowly before taking a look again to see if this really what he thought it might be.

His eyes raked over the paper as he took it in. Stiles had written a list of goodbyes and last requests and Derek moaned deep, he thought he would never feel the pain of his heart breaking once again, thought he had protected himself from that vulnerability.

His eyes filled with tears as he scanned the first lines.

_I want to say goodbye if I don’t come home one night. I can’t be sure of anything right now, all I am sure about is how much I love everyone I might be leaving behind. So if the day comes that I take my last breath, please know this._

_If I do die young, I wish I could say that I was ready to go, that I had done all the things I wanted, but it’s probably not true. I guess I just hope that there is some worth behind my last actions and that I go down fighting._

_I don’t have many possessions so dad, I’ll leave that one to you to sort out (although half my video games belong to Scott so maybe you should just give him all those)._

_Most importantly, I want to say the words to those I love most in all the world in case I don’t get the chance._

_**Dad** _

_Dad, I am so, so sorry._  
 _I am sorry to put you through this again and that I run into things without stopping to think. I’m not sure I believe in heaven anymore but I do hope that wherever mom may be, I’ll be able to find her and we’ll both be watching down on you Pop’s. Please bury my ashes next to her..._

Derek stopped reading with a gush of anguish threatening to escape his throat. He shouldn’t be reading this, it was so intensely personal. With shaking hands he brushed at the paper before setting it to one side, but as he did, the flutter of the page revealed his own name scratched deep at the bottom of the second page. He hesitated for a second and without real thought, pulled the pages to him again.

**_Derek_ **

_Well man, what can I say? Guess I can be honest with you now. Since day 1 we’ve hated each other, driven each other mad and send each other crazy every time we’re around each other. But despite all that I actually can’t imagine you not being around. I watched you nearly die the night I wrote this and I lost it, I literally lost my mind at the thought of losing you. I don’t even know what I would do._

_I hate that you’ve had such shitty things happen to you. I’ve never had the guts to say anything like this to your face but you’re such a good man and I really hope that one day you’ll find happiness and peace from the past. Please accept that everything that’s happened is not all your fault and that you can’t control the twisted actions of other people. Oh and don’t you dare try and take on any blame for my stupid death whenever it happens or I’ll come back and haunt your sorry ass._

_I can’t form the words sufficient to say what I want to you Derek. I just really care about you, like a crazy amount and I’m sorry that we will probably never get the chance to see what we could be. Never get that break to see if life could be kind to us. Good bye man... look after Scott for me._

Derek laid the paper down in slow motion at his side as his ears buzzed and he stared unseeing at the wall. The thought of the buzzing life force of Stiles no longer existing in the world made no sense. The idea that this whirlwind of energy would not always be there, always pushing him, challenging him and ultimately making waking up each morning to draw a breath worth it, was more than he could comprehend.

He shifted to look back at the sleeping boy next to him and suddenly felt desperate for him to be awake, he needed to hear his voice, to see the spark in his eyes and to know he was still there.

He hoarsely called Stiles’ name whilst gripping at his arm and shaking him.

Stiles’ eyes flickered as he grumbled at the disturbance.

‘Whaaa...?’

‘Stiles. Wake up.’

Stiles sleepily blinked and Derek maintained his strong grip on his arms as he felt a desperation to make sure that he was really there, really in front of him still.

‘Stiles, what the _hell_ is this?’ he asked angrily, gesturing to the notepad. ‘What the fuck are you thinking?’

Stiles shifted to sit up-right and shrugged out of Derek’s grip to meet his gaze steadily. He looked at him coolly before clearing his throat and answering quietly,

‘It’s sensible. Thought I should prepare you know, with everything we go through. Could happen anytime.’

Derek stared at him in shock, he’d never seen Stiles so detached and steady and it was starting to make him itch, this was not right.

‘You are not fucking dying, do you hear me? There will never be a time when I would let that happen ok?’

Stiles smiled small and sad. ‘Derek you can’t always be there to protect me, there will be a time when you’re not around, when some spiteful creature jumps out at me and it’s game over. I’m not being melodramatic, just realistic ok? And in case you didn’t notice, things didn’t go so great for you tonight either.’

Derek growled low in his throat. He knew Stiles’ words made sense but he hated the way he was being so matter of fact about it, he couldn’t accept that this could happen. That one night he may wake up and find that it hadn’t been enough. That he was alone again.  
He tensed and dug his claws into his hands, shaking his head and looking away, unable to meet the infuriatingly steady gaze.

‘You’re not, you’re never... it just...’ he muttered to himself. He felt the bed shift and Stiles reached forward, just one hand reaching out, finger tips resting lightly on Derek’s jacket sleeve.

‘It’s ok Derek, whatever happens we’ll go down fighting, it’s just I’m not invincible y’know?’

Derek jerked his gaze back to look at him and saw Stiles leaning forward, eyes soft as they traced his face. Derek felt overwhelmingly tired from the injuries he was still healing from and the emotions he was feeling now were choking him.

Stiles exhaled heavily through his nose before edging forward and resting his hands on top of Derek’s. His skin warm against his and he opened his own hands to grab at them. They both sat staring down at their entwined fingers,

‘Promise me you’ll try Stiles. Promise me you won’t just do something crazy for the hell of it?’

Stiles laughed quietly, ‘Derek I don’t want to go anywhere, I promise you but I’m also not going to stand by when the people I love are getting hurt in front of my own eyes.’

Derek felt a bloom of warmth in his stomach in understanding that he was in that special group of people that Stiles classed as worth his love.

‘We’re going to have to get you a better weapon than that ridiculous baseball bat then’ he muttered gruffly.  
Stiles laughed wetly, ‘that might be a good idea.’

Derek brought his eyes back up to look at Stiles, to gaze into those golden eyes and to feel the warmth of him here, right now in front of him.

‘I read what you wrote for me.’

Stiles groaned and pulled away, hand sweeping over his eyes, ‘nooo dude, that wasn’t for reading now... fuck.’

Derek reached forward and grabbed his hand back. ‘I... it was nice.’

‘Nice?’ Stiles spluttered, ‘that wasn’t quite what I was going for.’

Derek shuffled forward, gaze flickering away as he tried to form the words he needed to say.

‘It was more than nice. Stiles I couldn’t bear it if you weren’t here either, when I woke up tonight, you were the first person I wanted to see, needed to see. The thought of you getting hurt kills me... I can’t even get my head around that ever happening.’

He took in a ragged breath as Stiles raised his free hand to hold gently against his stubbled cheek. Derek sighed at the warm touch and nuzzled at his skin softly.

‘You’re just a big softy’ Stiles muttered affectionately.

Derek bared his teeth in mock threat which just made Stiles laugh again, ‘Ooh scary big, bad.’

‘You’re still the most annoying person I know.’

Stiles laughed loudly, ‘good to hear it, wouldn’t want it any other way.’

Derek could feel the tension leaving his muscles, just being close to Stiles and knowing he was safe was all he needed. He gave in to the soft looks and enticingly close proximity and gathered Stiles up in his arms, pulling him in and breathing against his clean skin. His chest rumbled as he ran his nose along the tender skin of Stiles’ neck, hand running through the soft hair at the base of his skull. Stiles responded immediately and held on tight, one hand gripping the back of his jacket, the other stroking through his hair.

This was new.

Their affection had always been from a distance, had always been through sarcastic remarks and fake aggression. Somehow tonight a barrier had dropped and there seemed no reason to pretend anymore.

Stiles pulled his head to the side to peer at Derek.

‘You really ok?’

Derek rumbled, reluctant to pull away. Stiles’ fingers started to slide down his arms and to the front of his jacket which was hanging open. Derek paused wondering where this was going exactly and unsure how far he was going to let Stiles go.

Cool fingers met the skin of his stomach and his muscles clenched tight in response. His breathing became heavy as he hung his head and stared down between them, his hands dropped from holding Stiles.

Every so tentatively, Stiles started to pull away at the jacket revealing an expanse of Derek’s skin before letting his fingers trail over the lines of muscles.

‘Can I see...’ he heard Stiles whisper softly before pulling the jacket back further so it started to fall off his shoulders. Derek still didn’t pull his eyes up and instead watched as Stiles traced cool lines over the pale silver scars that were slowly fading over his torso, muttering as he went like a mantra that would aid the healing.

Derek shivered under the touch and closed his eyes at the tender feelings of caring that were pouring through the boys fingers setting his heart alight. It had been such a long time since someone had so carefully touched Derek, a long time since he would even consider letting someone touch him in this way.

When Stiles traced the scar that led all the way to his shoulder, he edged the jacket away until it sat pooled in the crooks of Derek’s elbows.

There was a pause of silence before Derek felt a whisper of breath and then a warmth against his skin that made him groan with disbelief as he felt the tender touch of Stiles’ lips to his skin. He forced his eyes open a slit to see Stiles bent low, gaze flickering from Derek’s chest to his eyes like he was worshipping him and taking in every detail.

Derek brought his hands up to cup Stiles’ face as he looked back at him breathless, ‘Ok?’

Derek nodded silently before running his hands over Stiles’ shoulders and down his arms, allowing him to continue. Stiles slowly mapped along each fading scar with gentle kisses and hot breaths, as he reached the sensitive skin of his stomach, Derek reached the point where he could no longer ignore the heat pooling in his gut and he pulled Stiles up with a kind of desperation.

Stiles’ cheeks were flushed and his eyes heavy, they stared at each other with something like disbelief that they were finally acting on their feelings. Derek smiled softly before smoothing a hand around Stiles’ skull and pulling him in to meet his lips.

Derek had dreamt of kissing Stiles a million times but always kept the desire stamped down, he never thought it would ever happen. Never thought he might get the chance to finally feel those soft, soft lips against his own. He felt so rough and coarse next to the sweetness and gentle humanness of Stiles and he inhaled deeply as they brushed lips against each other.

They kissed tentatively and softly, still so unfamiliar in their closeness but feeling so right in all ways, Derek never wanted this warm body to leave his arms ever again.

Slowly Stiles pulled away, pressing small kisses against Derek’s jaw line before pulling back and sighing quietly with a smile playing on his lips, hands playing with the soft strands of hair behind his ears.

Derek smiled as the rested their foreheads together. The room was quiet and peaceful, he could hear Stiles’ heart thudding in a strong rhythm and that was all he needed to keep him together right now. Whatever happened ahead of them, he knew he would give his life and his soul to protect his pack, but above all, to protect Stiles.

He slowly pulled his jacket off and moved a pliant and exhausted Stiles to lie down as he flicked off the bedside lamp. Derek lay on his side watching Stiles’ face carefully, watching the heavy blinks as his eyes fought to stay open. He brought a hand up to trace down his hairline and Stiles moved his face to press a kiss to his palm. Derek felt his heart stutter before Stiles pulled his hand to hold between them.

Whatever hell tonight had taken them both through, maybe it had worked to make them understand how to truly value each day and to treasure those they loved. Seeing Stiles fall in to slumber, Derek edged closer, looping his arm around his slim waist and pulling him in close so he could bathe in his heat and scent through the night.

Never again he muttered in a promise to himself, never again would he let Stiles out of his sight.

His brow creased in a frown as he tried to let sleep take him, knowing deep down in his heart that one day, that may be a promise he wouldn't be able to keep and he would be too late.


End file.
